


I keep wishing for something that gets in my way

by sarahcakes613



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avenger Clint, M/M, Millennial Bucky, Sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:54:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29418240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahcakes613/pseuds/sarahcakes613
Summary: Clint accidentally sends a sext to his dogwalker Bucky. Bucky doesn't mind.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 12
Kudos: 65





	I keep wishing for something that gets in my way

**Author's Note:**

> saw this amusing text exchange on Tumblr and Clara told me to run with it. So, I did.

Clint stares at his phone in horror.

Because, the thing is. You learn a lot of useful things in the circus. Like, juggling. He’s really good at juggling. Just now, for example, he successfully juggled his phone, a travel mug, and a dog leash as he unlocked his front door.

What no one in the circus told him was that juggling a phone that’s not locked means you might accidentally send a text winging over invisible data lines to the wrong damn person.

Which is why the text he was trying to send to Derek, the guy he’s been casually fucking for a few weeks now, is instead glaring at him from the otherwise innocuous thread of messages he’s been exchanging with his dogwalker Bucky.

He doesn’t know what it says about him that the two top most used contacts in his phone are the guy he is hooking up with and the guy who walks his dog.

The little checkmarks that indicate his text has been successfully delivered are still grey, which means Bucky hasn’t seen them. He should delete it. He’s going to delete it.

The checkmarks turn blue.

Fuck. He rereads the message he’d sent, just in case maybe it’s not as bad as he thinks.

after that, I’ll suck your soft dick into my mouth and just keep it there as it gets hard _8:36 pm_

Yeah, it’s just as bad as he thinks.

It’s okay, he can still salvage this.

oh shit bro wrong chat _8:44 pm_

Three dots appear and then stop and then appear again.

it’s all good bro. _8:45 pm_

He breathes a sigh of relief. Bucky’s a good guy, he’s been walking Clint’s dog for a few months now, ever since Kate moved out to California, and he’s been around long enough to know what a disaster Clint is.

go on. _8:47 pm_

Wait, what? He looks at his phone and then he looks over at Lucky, who is now asleep on the couch with his paws in the air, completely ignorant to his owner’s panic.

Lucky’s a big fan of his dog walker. So is Clint, actually. Bucky’s a nice guy, reliable, always brings a freezer bag of his latest baking project so Clint comes home from fighting aliens or robots or alien robots to something homemade.

He’s also cute, with his tight jeans and tighter butt and a jawline that could cut glass. Clint’s only human so yeah, he’s noticed. He’s never said, though, because Bucky works for him and he’s a professional. It even says so on his business cards.

Okay, so they say “professional bow and arrow guy” but still. He’s taken the SHIELD class, he knows better than crossing those lines with people he works with.

He knows better now, anyhow.

But, maybe it doesn’t count if Bucky initiates? Like, yeah, okay, Clint sent the first message, but it was an _accident_ and he _explained_ and Bucky _still_ initiated.

He should say something. If he doesn’t say anything, it’s going to be weird the next time he gets a mission call and there will be an awkward exchange at the door as he hands over Lucky’s leash and he doesn’t want to have to find a new dogwalker because this is New York and they’re all really busy with their 200 other clients, who all live on the Upper West Side and have dogs named Mitzi and Aloysius.

But maybe he’s waited too long and it will be awkward if he does say something. He looks down at his phone and sees that it’s only been a few minutes since Bucky’s last message. Huh. Apparently he can fit an awful lot of catastrophizing into three minutes.

go on? you want me to talk cockwarming to you? what, you looking for tips? _8:52 pm_

wouldn’t say no to your tip. _8:53 pm_

you wanna see the tip, baby? _8:55 pm_

yeah, show it to me _8:56 pm_

He feels like he’s playing sexting chicken with the other man. Does Bucky actually expect him to send a picture? Does Bucky actually _want_ him to send a picture?

He should play it safe, just in case, maybe start with something rated PG. He turns on his front-facing camera and shucks off his shirt, but leaves his pants on. He focuses the camera on his stomach, takes a photo with his thumb tugging at his waistband, a sliver of his purple boxer briefs showing.

He sends it. The checkmarks turn blue, but there is no response. Fuck. Does this mean he won sexting chicken, or lost?

sorry, you know what, I’m making this weird. just um, you can pretend none of this happened. _9:01 pm_

please don’t quit walking Lucky he really loves you. _9:02 pm_

Bucky still doesn’t respond and Clint starts to panic. He’s tempted to set up some target practice to burn off the nervous energy but he’s only just finished spackling over the results of the last time he did that.

He sighs and plucks his aids out. Maybe he’ll just go watch Bake-Off in bed and when he wakes up Bucky will have forgiven him and promised not to leave ~~him~~ Lucky for some pedigreed pooch named Ferdinand.

He’s dragging himself around the kitchen, trying to drum up interest in the contents of his fridge, when Lucky suddenly wakes and flips over, tail whirling like a helicopter’s rotor. He scrambles towards the door, and Clint notices the light over the door blinking, letting him know that someone is ringing the bell.

“Hang on,” he calls out loudly, and he fumbles to put his ears back in. As sound filters back in, Lucky’s alerting bark turns into a whine. Aw, fuck. Lucky only whines like that for a handful of people and most of them are either on the West Coast or on a mission in fuckknows. Madripoor, maybe.

Clint can only think of one person who is in town that Lucky whines like that for, and a quick glance at his phone confirms said person still hasn’t responded to his awkward shirtless selfie. He wrenches the door open, only belatedly remembering that he’s still shirtless.

“Hi,” he says awkwardly.

Lucky squeezes around his legs and shoves his head under Bucky’s hand. Bucky strokes his fur without looking down, staring instead at Clint.

“Hey,” he says. His voice is soft and throaty. “You gonna let me in?”

Clint jumps back and Bucky laughs as he walks in. Clint closes the door behind him and only has a few seconds to register what’s happening before soft lips are pressing against his and a lean body is pressing him against the wall.

The lips move down and Clint can feel them moving as Bucky mumbles against his throat.

“What?” He gasps, his hips jerking as Bucky’s teeth graze his skin.

Bucky pulls off and stares at him, his eyes wide and pupils blown with arousal.

“I said it might be too late for cockwarming, but I’d be happy to let you suck my dick.” He says, and all the blood that’s been flushing Clint’s face now rushes south, his own dick pushing insistently at his zipper.

Bucky steps back. “Okay?” He asks, and Clint jerks his head up and down.

“Yeah,” he says hoarsely, “yeah, okay.”


End file.
